All I Want For Christmas
by Shade Asylum
Summary: Christmas week in the Berry-Lopez household.
1. Saturday

**A/N: So, I decided to give you guys an early ChristmaHannuKwanzica gift. It should definitely be done before or by Christmas. It won't get in the way of any of my other stories. I hope you enjoy.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex.**

I couldn't contain my excitement as I slipped into our tiny apartment, clearing the boxes of decorations to create a path just as I heard the harsh curses of my girlfriend and her best-friends as they brought in our tree. She carried the stand ahead, holding it steady as they placed it in and secured it. I couldn't help a giggle as a cascade of needles fell on her head. She cursed us all as I moved to help remove some. Soon enough we were decorating our beautiful tree.

"Shit," Santana muttered as she stuck her thumb again. "Why do we need popcorn? We have lights."

I tsked and held her finger to lick the blood away, "The lights are for the doorways and counters. Besides, popcorn is a tradition."

"What tradition? You're Jewish," she sighed in exasperation, dropping the thread and next piece of popcorn onto her lap.

"You partake in Hanukkah so I partake in Christmas. It's _our _tradition," I corrected.

"Stop whining, you aren't untangling miles of stupid lights," Noah chastised as he and Mike sat, surrounded by long chords of lights.

"Why couldn't we just buy a fake tree and save the hassle for next year?" Santana demanded, taking up her task again.

I shook my head and stood up, searching through the boxes for the tree skirt, "It's not the same. It's just not Christmas without a real tree, I mean, don't you love the-"

"No," they answered in unison.

"The smell," I went on, glaring between them all.

"It smells like my car," Mike sighed, "I can buy you spray if that's what you're after."

"You always make me vacuum the needles," San groaned.

"It's a fire-hazard, which, I don't know if you realize this, isn't exactly what I want for Christmas," Noah supplied.

I huffed at them before picking up a small box, "I suppose if you're all so opposed to the more verdant decorations we won't need the mistletoe." I smirked victoriously as I walked into the bedroom, away from their annoyed glares.

}{

I moved around the tree, precisely placing the stringed popcorn on braches. Santana followed me lazily, sucking on a candy cane and serving about as much purpose as the box the decorations were stored in. If I'm really honest, this was sweet of her. She was making an effort that she wouldn't make for anyone else. Growing up, Christmas was a shallow holiday for her; another excuse for her parents to throw money at her in place of actual affection. Yes, she moaned and groaned at every task, tradition, and chore, but if she truly didn't want to she wouldn't do any of it.

Mike and Noah left once the lights were untangled and up, claiming they had chores of their own to finish. All I had to finish was the tree and once the popcorn was up Santana was mostly only up for "supervising." She watched as I flitted around the tree, placing small ornaments and candles. Those especially unnerved her so she'd never allow me to light them, but I still loved how they looked. She sat on the couch, boxes of candy canes on her lap, handing me a few she wasn't eating.

"Baby, come here," I called, not bother to hide my smile, at least not like the trinket behind my back.

"What now?" She sighed as she urged the boxes off of her lap and onto the couch before coming to my side.

I leaned up on my toes to kiss her cheek, enjoying the definition that always came to her dimples when I did that. I brought my hand forward, revealing the beautiful gold, rather, gold painted star. I'd found it at a second-hand shop and had to have it. I knew it was perfect when she stared at it as if it were Christmas morning itself. "I can't reach can you put it up for me?"

She looked up to me, just like she did our first time, asking if it was truly what I wanted.

I pressed it into her hands, watching proudly as she took it.

She still needed a chair to put it on top, but I knew how much it meant to her as she hopped down and pulled me in her arms so we both faced the tree. I felt her warm breath as she kissed and nuzzled my hair.

"It's perfect," I smiled up to the tree.

She nodded quietly as we stared in wonder at our tree for a few moments longer.

"It could be improved by some sort of illumination," I hummed silently, breaking the spell we were under.

"You aren't lighting the candles," she rolled her eyes before taking her place at the couch again.

"But,"

"Find your own apartment to burn down," she challenged.

}{

Prerecorded flames flickered across the television screen as the fake fire crackled and popped. With the heat turned up it was easy enough to imagine it was real. With the boxes stored and the cleaning done Santana and I were free to let the holiday overtake us. I rested with my head on her chest, a throw tugged well up to my shoulders. I traced gently patterns over her hip while similar ones were rubbed into my scalp. I loved the environment we'd created, especially as Santana hummed and sung gently for me; a familiar tune, far too risqué for my taste in carols but in Santana's case I could make an exception.

"Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring I don't mean a phone Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight," her smoky voice lulled, teasing me playfully with the lyrics.

"Would Santa be coming through the fire escape?" I teased.

She rolled her eyes but indulged me, "Only if he wants a taste of my bat."

I laughed, "One home run for your office softball game and you think you're A-Rod."

"Hey, you have to admit I'm pretty good," she defended. "Besides you act like Santa would could her, ignoring the lack of real milk and cookies," her voiced dropped and I already felt the blush forming on my cheeks, "He knows how you've been sleeping and he knows why you're awake."

"Santana!" I chided, "Must you destroy every innocent aspect of the holiday?"

She gave me a look which, really, I already knew her answer to that.

"Remember our first Christmas together?" Her tone was more relaxed as she asked.

I hummed and nodded at the memory, "The tree was tiny and you refused to help decorate"

"I came around," she laughed.

"You did," I smirked seductively at her.

She laughed louder, "And yet I'm the one corrupting the holiday."

"Trust me; you're a V.I.P. on the naughty list."

"Damn straight," she winked. "But you still made our tiny tree amazing."

"I know," I couldn't help the haughtiness from my voice.

"Just like you do every year," she sighed comfortably as she kissed my head.

We lay like that until Santana had to carry me to the room. I was curled into the warmth of our bed listening to the clicks, snaps, and footsteps that came with Santana busily shutting everything off. Slowly, our living room dimmed until all that was left was the glow from the faux fire residing in our television. I heard the crackling and popping for a while, it was the only sound. I imagined Santana standing before it, her eyes still locked on the tree. It only lasted until the television shut off and I heard each soft press of bare feet on the carpet and then the creaking of springs until my love was back in bed with me, her arms around me tightly.


	2. Sunday

Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex.

"We should technically be in church today," Santana pointed out as she sat cross-legged in front of the couch.

"I should have technically gone to temple yesterday but I suppose the ghosts of Christmas and Hanukkah past will forgive us."

"Let's just accept the fact that we're in this for the hallmark of it."

I perked up, "Speaking of which, we need to take pictures for our cars."

"I'm not getting dressed," Santana stated.

"Fine then, we can send everyone a picture of you in front of the tree in your underwear."

"Go for it," she shrugged, "I'm sure your dads and Shelby will love it."

I scowled at her, "As well as your boss."

She met me with a glare of her own.

If it weren't so early she'd have probably put up more of a fight, instead all I got was an eye roll as she grumbled, "Whatever."

I grinned successfully as I moved from the couch to go to the room. I dug through Santana's drawer and pulled out something appropriate before grabbing my camera from our desk. I grabbed her brush and went back to the living room. I dropped the objects onto her lap and went to the bar connected to our kitchenette, setting up the camera and angling it perfectly, zooming in and out until I was certain I could capture us as well as the tree.

Santana huffed as she came into my shot, the red silk camisole and shorts I'd chosen on and her hair tamed for the time being.

"Do you think, maybe, you could attempt to look a little," I smirked teasingly, "And any tiny little bit will do, happier about this picture. Otherwise, I fear you might convince everyone you're actually suffering."

"Go d forbid they actually think that," she rolled her eyes so hard I worried she'd strain herself.

I set the camera timer and went to Santana's side, posing her quickly so her body was slightly angled toward angled towards the camera. She'd long ago adjusted to my perfectionist ways, following each motion until I was pressed firmly against her chest and holding the hands at my waist. She'd adjusted that didn't mean she enjoyed it; it took an hour for us to get a picture I deemed perfect enough for our friends and family. At first, Santana was scowling, she sighing, and eventually yawning. She'd blink or her smirk would look far too predatory. At one point she even resorted to juvenile behaviors ranging from making faces at the camera to groping and trying to get a rise out of me. It took forever before we got it right, but when we did I couldn't have been happier.

"So, our relatives, associates, and friends get to see me in my most conservative lingerie and you in your snowman pajamas?" She asked as we sat at the computer with me on her lap while I edited the pictures for the postcards.

"Well, if you owned a decent, more festive, pair of pajamas you could have worn them."

"Because _"Ravishing Red"_ is so festive," I couldn't see it as I started printing the postcards but I knew she was rolling her eyes once more.

"Here," I grabbed the cards, counting out three before handing them to her, "Write your parent's, Abuela's, and boss's addresses on these."

"Accepting our relationship is not the same as hoping for borderline pornographic spam at every holiday," she muttered.

"I know for a fact that your mother thoroughly enjoys each and every one of the cards we've sent," I pointed out as I grabbed a pen, scribbling addresses furiously, "Besides, I can't be blamed for the fact that you take every holiday as an excuse to dress as a stripper. Adding bunny ears to a mini dress does not make you a rabbit Santana."

"It was pastel," she excused as she reached for her own pen.

I felt the paper and pen tip press into my back slightly. After a few minutes of us filling the silence that fell over us with scribbling, Santana noisily dropped her pen onto the desk and let her cards fall messily onto my neat pile of finished ones. I groaned as I finished, straightening the pile before shuffling through them to make sure each name and address was printed neatly. When I was certain that they were legible, I dug through the desk drawers until I found the small paper roll. I peeled on off and turned in Santana's lap to see the boredom scrawled across her face.

"Lick," I commanded as I held one to her lips.

She quirked an amused eyebrow but did as told.

I pressed the small square firmly to the corner of the first card on the stack. I felt her fingertips brush from my knee slowly up my thigh, under the hem of my shorts. "Behave," I chastised.

I didn't bother looking up to the smirk I knew would be there, "Or what?"

I pressed another tamp gently to her lips, "Or I can finish on my own."

"I know you can," she mumbled as she gripped my wrist, letting the stamp fall from her lips as she kissed my fingers, "But you like it better when I help."

I shuddered slightly as I watched but shook my head, picking up the stamp to lick myself and place it on the next card, "We need to finish and take these to the post office."

"It's closed today," she pointed out, not being hindered in the least as her lips found my shoulder and the hand on my thigh moved to my hip. Unconsciously I tilted my head for her but kept up my task.

"That's why there's a drop box," my voice was breathier than I liked as her teeth grazed a spot she'd long ago found to be very sensitive.

"How long do you think you can keep this up?" She wondered as her lips brushed just under my ear.

"Santana," I whined, finally dropping the card in my hand to brush her off.

I couldn't see myself denying her any further as I saw the mischievous arch of her lips. She wiped the cards and stamps from my lap, letting them fall to the floor.

I pushed the urge to scold her to the back of my mind as I situated myself more appropriately on her lap, my legs on either side of her waist as I felt the desk pressing slightly against my back.

"Stupid fucking snowmen," she mumbled, mostly, under her breath as she pushed the fabric up my stomach, peppering kisses across each inch of exposed skin until I finally raised my arms to let her remove the article entirely. It wasn't even entirely off when she had me writhing under her touch, one palm rubbing my breasts firmly while the other threw the shirt to the ground.

There were times I couldn't stand Santana's impatience; her need to have everything when she wanted it and how she wanted it. That certainly wasn't one of them. Especially, as my hips canted up at familiar warmth surrounding my left nipple. Her hand held my hip in place as I felt her tongue, stroking and flicking my pebbled node. What Santana frequently described as my "mad hot sex soundtrack," only sounded like a constant resonance to me, but she liked it and I liked her efforts to encourage it. She switched nipples, maneuvering her hands to tend to the other while still maintaining control over my hips. I didn't even notice when my hands had taken hold of the dark locks between them, but I had no intention of letting go.

"Tell me you don't like how I celebrate," she challenged.

I lost any response I'd had when she sucked firmly on the flesh between her lips.

She rolled the chair back slightly pushing me onto the desk.

"The laptop," I all but shouted, flustered as I tried not to crush the expensive piece of equipment.

She glowered at the device behind me before standing up awkwardly, tearing away wires and less than delicately placing it on the ground away from her chair. She wasted no time tugging my shorts and underwear down as she took her seat. Instinctively I parted my legs, but she pushed them even further, scratching gently up from my knees to my hips as she kissed my stomach. I knew I was blushing as I watched her, trailing wet kisses from my navel to my apex. I gripped the edge of the desk in anticipation, enjoying the familiar sensations of dark locks brushing the tops of my thighs and warm breath tickling my skin. I could feel a slight whine building up in the back of my throat when she finally slipped her arms under my thighs.

"Oh god," I moaned as I felt her lips on mine.

She chuckled between my legs as I struggled against her grip.

"You're terrible," I meant for it to come out more scolding but I doubted she'd take it that way.

She hummed her concurrence against me and I shuddered at it, "And you love me anyway."

"I don't know w-why," I faltered as she parted my lips gently, seeking out my sensitive node.

"I think you do," she breathed against me, wrapping her lips around me as she sucked gently.

I nodded unconsciously and let my hips roll lightly against her mouth. I felt the warmth only Santana could ever bring me begin to build in my stomach. The more active her tongue became against me the warmer the waves came. I'd built up a subtle pattern to match that of her mouth against me. Her arms gripped my thighs tightly as I began to shudder against her, the warmth growing to heat, until finally I couldn't contain it. Her name spilled out of my lips just as a swell of my passion spilled over hers. I couldn't even keep my eyes open as I arched and writhed in pleasure, taking in each excess press and glide of her tongue as she rode out my ecstasy with me. Finally, when I'd stilled and my breathing calmed, I felt her head rest on my thigh as one arm reached up to brush over my hip affectionately.

"Still want to finish those cards?" She wondered, a haughty leer on her lips.

I shook my head and slid from the desk back onto her lap, "No, I'm fine with you finishing them tomorrow."

"I didn't agree to-" she was going to protest but I cut her off with a bruising kiss, moaning into her mouth at my own essence on her.

I bobbed my head slowly up and down, enjoying her compliance as she followed my lips and mimicked my motion. I licked her lips gently as I let my hands fall to the hem of her shirt, "I'm pretty sure you just did."


	3. Monday

Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex.

Santana huffed as she stood at the door, clad in her favorite leather coat, a pair of tight black jeans I knew fairly well hid the black stockings meant to keep her warm, and an equally dark scarf. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders as she prepared for the day ahead of us. I tucked her gloves into her coat sleeves, not bothering to hide my annoyance at the material and being careful not to knock over the small collection of boxes and other gifts in her hands. She tried to brush me away but I chuckled as she nearly managed to drop everything on her own. The final touch was tugging the plush red and black hat onto her head.

"I hate you," she groaned as I made sure her bangs weren't too disheveled by the hat.

"Only in theory," I smiled, stepping back to appreciate my handiwork.

"And in practice?" She wondered, shifting the packages in her arms uncomfortably.

"That's how I got you to do all of this, isn't it?" I smirked cheekily before patting myself down to make sure I had my phone, keys, and other necessities before going to pull open the door for her.

"That's how I got you to do all of this," she mimicked me bitterly as I led her to the elevator. "Mike's downstairs right?"

"Of course love, lest he face your wrath for even considering being late," I rolled my eyes and selected the ground floor as our destination.

She huffed again; really, it seemed to be all she did when she couldn't get her way. Her "wrath was not all it was cracked up to be. "You're mocking me," she pointed out.

I didn't bother to hide my smile as we finished the ride.

My own animal friendly faux-fur parka held up far better against the cold wind than Santana assured me it would where as her leather coat only did so much before I had to pull her scarf up over her face. Mike was waiting for us outside just as promised. He opened the trunk easily and let Santana drop the gifts in, despite my suggestion that she arrange them properly. He closed the trunk and we slipped into the backseat, choosing to huddle together rather than argue over who would sit shotgun in the heatless car. Mike drove for awhile before the post-office was in view. He pulled up in front of the shop, ignoring Santana's curses upon me, the holidays, and every single person in the line.

"Fuck this," she growled as she followed me out of the car, adjusting her gloves, scarf, and adorably enough, her hat. "Really, just fuck this. I hate Christmas anyway, why the hell do I have to sit in a cold ass line, just to send those greedy bast-" she scowled as I elbowed her, reminding her that my fathers were included in her rant, "people gifts?"

"Ignoring the fact that those greedy people are our friends and family, and that Christmas is a time for giving," I began pulling the packages from the trunk to stack into her hands, "You're the one who put off sending everything until the very last minute."

"It's not my fault that I'd rather sleep in during my break than send mail," she scowled.

"And it won't be my fault when your mother calls to ask why she hasn't gotten a postcard, a gift, or even word that you're still alive, not pregnant, and not homeless," I patted her cheek gently before moving onto the sidewalk.

She rolled her eyes but I knew she remembered the last two-hour phone call of that very nature. "Where's your stuff Bruce Lee?" She asked the shivering boy still watching us.

"I sent my stuff two weeks ago," I saw how hard it was for him to keep the smugness from his smirk.

"Then what the hell are you doing here? Watching me freeze? No me gusta," She snapped, almost ready to throw the packages at him.

"You didn't exactly give me a choice," he reminded.

"And we're grateful you valued your life enough not to waste it listening to her threaten to "go all Lima heights on your ungrateful ass," again," I moved to kiss his cheek before tugging Santana along by her coat sleeve.

"What are you going to do anyway," she asked, letting her glare on the back of my head ease before looking back to the boy.

"Heading to the coffee shop," he pointed across the street, the small café having about as much business as the post office.

"Fuck you," Santana deadpanned.

"What she means is," I pushed her into the line before reaching into my pocket to pull out a twenty, "Would you be so kind as to bring us back a couple drinks when you're done?"

"Of course," he grinned, pocketing the money. "Caramel latte, extra whipped-cream," he pointed to Santana and then to me, "Black, extra sugar?"

"Yes," I assured, waving him off before Santana had a chance to snap at him further.

"You owe me for this," she reminded, shifting the boxes in her amrs.

"I thought you were doing this because you loved me," I teased, pulling some boxes to place on the ground, glad the sidewalks had already been cleared of snow.

She placed the rest down and flexed her fingers gently before bringing them to my neck playfully, "You'd think so." I could only smile as her hands slipped past my throat and over my shoulders as she pulled me into a hug.

"How about we move the TV into the bedroom," I hummed into her chest, as I slipped my arms around her waist, "only for a little while, and enjoy our little fireplace for the night."

I felt as her arm lifted behind me to pull her scarf down as she kissed my hair, "I know that sounds like a treat to you, but who do you really mean when you say we move the TV?"

I shrugged into her and turned to see the line moving, "Well, considering we could have done this on a warmer day with less traffic if you'd been more willing, are you really deserving of a treat?"

She dropped her arms from me, shoving the packages forward with her foot and putting much more effort into her lackluster soccer skills than actually caring for my packages, "Remind me again why this works?"

"Why what works, love?" I leaned into her side when we'd caught up again.

"Us," she mentioned.

"Because I'm the only one who can keep you from mauling people," I pointed out.

"Funny, I thought it was because I'm awesome in be-"

"Santana," I hissed, glad that the flush in my cheeks could easily be blamed on the cold weather. "Let's stick with the simpler answer of being in love."

I felt a tickle as she leaned down, her scarf brushing gently against my ear as she mumbled, "I like that one better."

Another, deeper, blush overtook me as I tried to keep my eyes ahead and my smile at bay.

It really wasn't that long before Santana was moaning and groaning again. Roughly fifteen minutes had passed before we were one person back from the drop-box, our first stop. In that time, in that time, one passerby had manage to give her "a look," she caught another checking me out, and the child in a stroller behind her had thrown it's teddy bear at her back enough times that she turned to give the mother a look of her own. I'm sure she would have shared more than a look with the woman had I not moved behind her, sliding my arms around her waist and pressing my cheek to her back. It calmed her enough that we actually made it to the big blue box.

"Do you have anything you need to send?" I wondered as I placed the postcards into the slot.

She fished in her pockets before pulling out three envelopes and dropping them in as well, her familiar scrawl obvious on the backs.

I looked over the pile on the ground curiously, realizing those were only my gifts to be shipped, "That's all you got?"

"Gift-cards," she winked, slipping her hands into her pockets.

"Santana, gift-cards aren't a gift," I chided, letting the envelopes and postcards drop into the bin.

She rolled her eyes, "Of course they are. Abeulita's going to Macy's, Mom's going to Victoria's Secret," she scoffed at that, "and Papi's going to Champ's, he's had his eye on some stupid football jersey."

"Why couldn't you just buy him the jersey?" I wondered.

"Because he'd have worn the jersey whether I got the right one or not, and I know I would have because there's no way in hell I'm dragging Jackie Chan or Gene Simmons to Champs just for the sake of getting the right Jersey. This way, he has the excuse he needs for mom to let him go, and he gets the right Jersey."

"That almost sounds sweet," I sigh and shake my head.

"Almost," she nods.

"You're getting real gifts for everyone's birthdays," I warned.

"Fuck," she put extra emphasis on the words, "That."

I glared at her.

"You can go ahead and pay the shipping fees for all that," she waved carelessly towards my packages.

"At least I put some thought into it," I pointed to the largest box, "I know my Daddy will love his new laptop bag with the fan to keep his computer cool and Dad will absolutely adore his book of love letters full of pressed flowers."

I could feel this escalating into a full on argument, but Santana took it into her own hands to ease the tension. Rather, she took the front of my coat in hand as she pulled me toward her, "If I just say you're right, can we cuddle instead of you glaring stubbornly ahead? Because if you do that, I'm leaving you and hunting Chang down for my coffee."

If anyone else said that to me, well, I'd have glared stubbornly ahead. Instead, I sighed and pulled my love's scarf to down to kiss her gently, accepting this was as close as I was getting to a victory on this matter.

"I'll be fine with you hunting him down soon enough," I nodded against her chest.

"I know," I heard her slight smirk.

Mike did eventually show up with our coffee, apologizing profusely. Santana was going to tear him a new one until she saw the scribbles along the back of his hand beneath the name Alicia. Her irritation quickly turned into harassment as she prodded him for details but he muttered out some excuse before going to sit in the car, sipping his own coffee. I knew she was texting him but he seemed to be ignoring her texts as he huddled in the car with a blanket while he awaited us. Caffeine always seemed to do wonders for Santana's mood, no matter the season, but especially as it warmed her.

We finally made it inside after about forty-five minutes. Santana was mumbling about her lips being chapped, but that was resolved with a few quick kisses. Even I had to admit I was less tense inside the small building. The line actually didn't even seem as bothersome inside. When we reached the front of the line Santana couldn't have been more relieved. She lifted everything onto the counter and waited while the girl worked on the computer.

"So, are we shipping these out?" The girl asked in an overly cheerful tone.

"No, just send them back to my place," Santana sneered.

"Santana," I chided.

"Um, well…" the girl tried to keep her smile in place, "I see you already printed your shipping labels and attached them."

"Oh, really, because I can still point them out if you'd like," Santana jested, enjoying herself more than she had during any other part of this day.

"Well, I'll just weigh them," the girl's lips twitched.

"Thank you," I smiled before glaring at my girlfriend.

The chipper girl tapped something into the computer before telling us the price, "And how will you be paying?"

"Are you currently accepting my arm and leg, or will debit do?" Santana surprised me as she clapped her card onto the counter, ignoring the girls outstretched hand altogether.

"Santana, that's too much," I reached for the card but she stopped me.

"You said debit, right?" The girl asked, looking between us in confusion.

She waved the girl on, "Just shut up and stop pouting."

The pout did melt away at her command, replaced by a grin as I hugged her, kissing her cheek as I mumbled, "You're not nearly as big of a bitch as you let on."

"You say that now," she muttered, a smile small tugging at her lips.

The girl behind the counter cleared her throat, sliding Santana's card, receipts and a pen.

Santana was glad to get out of there, making the girl behind the girl just a touch more uncomfortable as she assured her she'd be having a very merry Christmas as she did. We slipped into the car right away. Mike had gotten us more coffees and Santana polished hers off right away. The drive back to the house was definitely more pleasant. We teased Mike about his new friend while he blushed and assured us it was no big thing. Santana had to agree. I had to hit her shoulder.

"Mr. Han come up," Santana encouraged the boy.

He looked between us uncertainly, "Is this a trap?"

"Technically no," I shrugged.

"I need help moving some stuff," Santana supplied, "And since you aren't getting any right now, maybe you can be useful."

"Say please," I scolded.

She rolled her eyes, "Please be useful."

"I'll make coffee Mike," I tried.

The boy looked skeptical before shrugging and following us up.

He wasn't the slightest bit shocked, or even upset, when Santana all but forced him out after the television was set up in the bedroom, one of our coffee mugs still in his hand.


	4. Tuesday

Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex.

"No,"

"But San-"

"No,"

"Please,"

"No,"

"_Please,_"

"N-no,"

"Santana!"

She finally groaned and I saw her resilience wearing down.

"It's all I want, I swear," I shifted excitedly on her lap, grabbing far more of her attention than I wanted, "And we can even put off wrapping until tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes.

"You can bring Mike and Noah," I pleaded.

She sighed.

I'd won.

Santana was not pleased as she shivered in the back of Mike's car. Noah and Mike were in the front joking around and teasing her about being whipped, I was trying to cheer her up although my giddy mood didn't seem contagious. It took quite some time, and we'd still had to park pretty far away but I couldn't contain my excitement as the grand tree came into view as well as the rink before it. I could see the hint of a smirk tug on Santana's lips before she pulled her scarf over her face. We followed the boys to go rent our skate's and we were on the ice almost immediately.

Noah was fairly clumsy on his skates but it only took a moment before the childhood skill came back to him. Mike was, of course, fairly adept at it. Santana and I were pretty good, skating a few circles to warm up. Soon enough, the boys passed us quickly, taunting Santana as they sped by. I still couldn't say I was used to it after all our time together, but I sort of enjoyed it when she looked to me for permission. Once it was granted I watched her race after them, glad she was finding some sort of joy in our day plans. The trio was lost in the crowd but I still enjoyed my solemn skate, basking in the joy of the city I'd dreamed of for so very long.

"Having fun?" A warmer voice than I'd heard all morning came as a familiar form molded perfectly to me.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I laced my fingers with those of the hand on my waist. "I'm skating at Rockefeller Center with the love of my life," I gushed.

She glided to my side, her arm still on my hip and as I looked up to Santana I knew she'd be blushing even behind her scarf, "I guess."

"You guess?" I bumped her side gently.

"I'd have preferred to stay home and cuddle but you know," she shrugged, "Love of my life and all that."

I smiled, "Would it make you feel better if you had a hot chocolate?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"Just a little bit longer and then we can get the boys," I assured.

Santana was the kind of person who could have fun just about anywhere. Yes, she hated the cold, being physically active when it wasn't necessary, the cold, not being able to make out, the cold, and I'm uncertain if I'd mentioned it but the cold. She gave me the final leisurely laps around the rink before we were trailing after Mike and Noah. When we finally got them off the ice, Santana's goal was chocolate. She drug us, well, me through the crowd to wait impatiently into the line. Since, I was her portable space heater she let the boys leave to find a table; I couldn't say I minded as she held me tightly to her chest and nuzzled my hair, shuffling forward the few inches at a time it would take her to get her chocolate.

"Can I take yo-"

"Chocolate," she blurted, although it was muffled by my hair.

"She means, may we have three large hot chocolates and a large coffee," I giggled, rubbing the hands currently clenching in my coat pockets before pulling a bill from my wallet.

"You get me," she nodded.

"I couldn't let you freeze simply because you can't properly articulate your desires," I shrugged.

"And there that goes," she huffed.

I giggled again as I leaned back against her comfortably while we waited on our order.

I could only watch on in amusement as the three burned themselves repeatedly while trying to warm up. Really, it didn't seem like such a hard task to drink slowly, but I could be wrong. Chug, hiss, whimper; it was a pattern being repeated all around our table. Technically I was only responsible for Santana, but I felt it necessary to scold them all between my bouts of laughter. When they were all done, and certain they wouldn't be able to drink anymore if they wanted to, we were ready to get back on the ice.

"'S not funny Rach," Santana mumbled, a slight lisp tinting her words.

"But it is," I chuckled against her arm.

"I hate you," she groaned.

"Liar," I challenged.

She pouted fiercely before skating away, me hot on her tail as I couldn't keep my laughter at bay. When I finally caught her I apologized, although she scowled at the small smile still on my lips. The boys finally settled their almost perpetual race to glide along with us. Mike skated along backwards as he and Noah talked about some girls they'd seen on their trips around. I was anything but amused as they spoke about girls skirts coming up when they fell; Santana seemed to be trying to stay out of the conversation all together. When I asked about her, Mike said he'd talked to the girl from the café. I even told him to invite her to our small Christmas get together.

The boys were ready to leave far earlier than we were, and so I was surprised when Santana told them we'd call a cab. They left us with tight hugs and reminders of our plans for Thursday. A good chunk of the crowd had diminished but as the natural lights dimmed it became apparent that it was mostly couples still out. In the light of the large tree at the head of the rink I could understand why Santana would want to stay.

"It's so big," I sighed as I looked up to the large tree as we approached it.

"Tha-"

"I swear to God Santana Lopez don't even think of making one of those vile "That's what she said joke,""

She chuckled behind me and nuzzled my hair, "You're no fun."

"And you're a terror but I still love you anyway," I shot back.

"I know," she sighed comfortably. "Is it everything you've ever dreamed of?" Her voice was silent now, genuinely more inquisitive.

"What? Ice-skating? Santana, we've been bef-"

"No," I could hear the smile in her voice, "New York? With me?"

I smiled silently as I thought about it. I'd certainly never imagined that my former tormentor would fit so perfectly into my future but she did. I may not have foreseen it but I knew nobody else was meant to be where she was in my life, holding me tightly, kissing me so lovingly, and cherishing me as only she could. "While I see myself as highly creative, and excellent at planning for any circumstance," I sighed gaily into the night air, "My imagination could have never been so splendid as to bring me you."

Getting into the cab after that, on the ride to our apartment, I could only think of how amazing my lover was. Her fingers laced through mine as she held me closely to her side. I basked in the warmth of her love. Even as we stood outside our own apartment door, as if this were some juvenile date and we'd need to part ways, the magic still clung to us. And even when it ended, our lips pulling away as we blushed almost shyly at each other, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

"I can't taste you," Santana's face fell.


	5. Wednesday

Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex.

Santana pretty much begged me not to make her get up. I was fine with that. She also begged me to stay in bed with her. I was also fine with that. I was not fine when I realized we'd slept well into the afternoon that we were supposed to spend wrapping gifts, but when Santana finally relented her grasp on my waist in place of a pillow, I took the opportunity to wrap her gifts. I made coffee as I set out the red and gold paper, the tape, and the scissors. When I finally had a mug I sat on the living room floor and began.

I'd gotten Santana a bottle of perfume, a new flat-iron to replace the one she'd broken last time she was angry at her hair, some new sunglasses, new running shoes, and the video game Noah, Mike, and Sam had been harassing her about getting. It didn't take very long before I finished hers and I could move along to the boy's gifts. I was barely done with their hoodies when Santana pulled me onto her lap.

"Almost done?" She asked against my neck.

"No," I shook my head, pulling the packages onto my own lap to write their names across the tops. "I'd probably get a lot more done if I had some help."

"Probably," she agreed, kissing down my shoulder.

"Santana, don't you have to wrap anything?" I wondered, "You didn't get them gift cards too, did you?"

She scoffed, "I should have. No, I'll do it, but maybe a little bit of encouragement might be nice."

I swatted at the hands circling my waist and slipped off of her lap, "Not until you at least start."

She huffed but got up, going to gather her silver and black paper as well as a pile of stuff from her closet. She'd started at some other point, but got sidetracked; it certainly cut down on what she had to do. She'd gotten Mike a small stereo and some CDs. As for Noah, he'd bought him his own hair clippers and a new cable for his guitar and amp. They each had another gift she'd already wrapped and she wouldn't tell me what they were. Santana had always been an amazing wrapper, something about her mom being very anal about the gifts she'd put under the tree. I was certain she'd finish before me when I looked back to my own task before a panicked shout made me snap my head up.

"Oh my god, Rachel," Santana was staring at her hand panicking.

I scrambled carefully over a few gifts, "What happened? Are you alright?"

I was looking for a finger on the ground and pooling blood. Instead, I was greeted with her hand, "It hurts! Dios mio, is it bleeding? I don't want to die before Christmas."

It took a moment before I spotted the minute injury. Really, it looked like she'd drawn it on, but as I squeezed her finger gently, I saw the small wound pucker and fill slightly with blood. I really couldn't help but gape at her.

"Don't look at me like that," she whined, pulling her hand back from me and getting up.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," she scowled at me.

I chuckled and followed her, watching intently as she pulled the first aid kit out, although once she got an alcohol wipe open she couldn't even look at her hand. "Let me see," I took the cloth and began wiping her finger tenderly. "Who would have thought that the great Santana Lopez could be brought down by a paper cut?"

"I was not-"

She couldn't finish as I held up hand and squeezed the skin.

"Don't do that!"

"Calm down," I laughed before tossing the cloth and reaching for a bandage now. When it was covered completely I held her hand up to kiss the bandaged finger, "All better?"

"Don't speak to me like a child," she was pouting but I could tell she appreciated it as she could finally look at her hand and nodded.

"Can we finish now or should we worry about the ones on your eyes," I prodded.

"Oh my god," she gaped at me, horror reading clearly across her features, "Don't say that!"

I didn't feel bad for laughing, that wasn't it; I felt bad for doubling over with laughter.

"Fuck you," she growled and stomped out of the bathroom.

"Santana, calm down," I called, following her into our room.

"Fuck off, dwarf," she called from behind the door.

I sighed and pushed the door open, knowing how upset she was if she was recalling juvenile insults. She was already pulling on jeans and muttering under her breath. I didn't bother with idle talking or apologizing as it was just a waste of time. Instead I pulled her down for a bruising kiss. She resisted at first, but eased into the kiss, taking control of it easily, and biting angrily at my lip until I pulled away.

"Bitch," she scowled.

"Mhum," I nodded, well-versed in the skill of ignoring her when she was upset.

She was the one to pull me back, capturing my lips fiercely as she growled into my mouth; I couldn't deny how hot it made me. "San."

"Don't do that," she warned breathily as she kissed down my jaw.

"Don't… do…" I wasn't actually in any position to be coming up with a response as I breathed the words.

"Don't laugh at me," she punctuated the words with a sharp bite to my neck.

I gasped as she finally pulled me to the bed with her. Our lips reconnected immediately and I couldn't help but grab her hands as I rolled us over, "Let me apologize."

Her eyebrows knit and our actions ceased entirely for a moment as she contemplated it. Finally, she gave a subtle nod.

"I'm sorry, my love," I mumbled as I leaned forward, holding her hands above her head as I kissed down her neck. "I'm sorry for laughing at you," I trailed my lips farther down, only to be stopped by her shirt, and that just wouldn't do. Santana was as content to be rid of her shirt as I was mine. The distraction on my part did give her hands the opportunity to begin the trek up my thighs but I had to detain them once more, pressing them to her sides as I lavished her breasts with attention, drawing each nipple between my teeth to nip at them roughly. She cursed loudly but arched up. I finally saw it fit to release her hands to let them tangle into my hair.

"Rachel," she called, already writhing beneath me.

"I'm sorry for teasing you baby," I lamented as I kissed down her torso, urging her shorts and underwear down as I slid down her body.

She nodded as she lifted her hips for me. When she was finally in a more preferable state of dress, rather, undress, she pulled me back up, her knees on either side of me as she pressed her heels to the backs of my thighs.

"I love that you trust me with your anxieties," I reminded during a short break for air, my hand well on its way between her legs as I moved onto my knees. I couldn't deny the surge of my own as I felt her wetness. My fingers dipping between her folds to massage the bundle of nerves I knew would lavish the attention. Santana cried out softly as her hips rolled slowly against my hand. I couldn't even deny my own impatience as I persisted, pressing my fingers farther until I felt her drawing me inside.

"Oh my god," she breathed as she felt me, her own thrusts pausing.

"I should have never laughed at you," I assured, letting her bring our lips together. I savored the taste of her moans as I pumped slowly into her at first.

"Faster," she panted.

I nodded and obliged, filling her before she had the time to miss me. She fell back from the embrace as her heated breaths grew to muted moans. I pressed kisses up and down her throat, timing myself before slipping in a third finger. I loved the almost deprived cry she gave as I massaged her. Soon, I felt her walls clenching around me. I wanted to drag it out, lavish her further, but I knew she'd only grow annoyed if I did. Instead, I drew my thumb over her apex in a few tight circles and she was shuddering around me. I rode out her climax with her and gazed on as she came down, bringing my fingers to my lips. "Am I forgiven?"

The set of her eyebrows relaxed before she nodded, drawing my fingers down to bestow them with attention of her own, holding my eyes as she gently sucked on my middle finger.

I couldn't stop the slight whimper I gave as I watched her. When she seemed satisfied with the job she'd done on my fingers, she let me go. I held her hand and kissed her bandaged finger, "So, I couldn't help but notice you seemed to have bought a lot of gifts for Mike and Noah, but there didn't seem to be much else on your pile."

She rolled her eyes. I hadn't realized how tense I was but I relaxed when I saw her smile, "You're presents have been wrapped and hidden for weeks. I know how you are."

"How am I?" I challenged.

"Sneaky."

I scowled at her, dropping her hand quickly.

"Last Christmas you bought extra wrapping paper just so you'd be able to rewrap everything you'd already opened."

I blushed at that.

"Trust me, I even made sure it was high enough you couldn't reach."

That gave me a few ideas, but I sighed and laid down, resting my head on her shoulder, "You're lucky I love you, otherwise I wouldn't put up with half of your insults."

"I know," she grinned and kissed my head.


	6. Thursday

**A/N: So sorry the last two chapters have been so late. I'll have Friday up as soon as possible, tonight or tomorrow likely. So sorry. I hope you guys all had good Christmases, unless you celebrate than happy everything else.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex.**

"Calm down," I laughed as we followed the boys into the community center.

"I'm not exactly a people person," she reminded.

"Trust me," I held her hand up to kiss the back, "I know. But you'll do fine; it's not like you can mess up."

"I know but last time we were just singing," She shrugged, "I can sing. I can't, like, help."

"You can help Santana," I assured, kissing her hand again as I hummed.

That seemed to have relaxed her as we slipped into the gymnasium of the community center. Families sat around small tables chattering blissfully.

The woman who'd led us here pointed the boys to the table of food being served. After that she led us to a circle of children with a man in a red and green hat. The man looked up to us and smiled as she finished the story of Frosty the Snowman, "Would one of you ladies be willing to read to the kids?"

"Uh," Santana fidgeted.

"She will," I urged her forward.

"Alright," the woman smiled and turned back to the man, "Do you know any songs on the piano? I'm getting tired of jingle bells."

"I do," I interrupted.

"Alright, come with me," she called.

"Rach," Santana called nervously, and it was too cute.

I couldn't help but kiss her cheek and promising, "You'll do fine Santana." I followed the woman to the small electric keyboard in the corner to begin playing.

}{

I was even a bit surprised by how well the children took to Santana. As I watched over the keyboard one little girl had claimed her lap and a boy had sidled up next to her as he sucked his thumb. I was immediately glad I'd made her wear her less than traditional Santa hat. More children even migrated to her little circle. My movements over the electric contraption were so ingrained into me I hadn't even realized how little attention I was paying when Mike squatted down next to me, a Styrofoam cup in hand.

"It's scary, right?" He wondered as he handed me the cup.

I smiled and thanked him before looking back to my girlfriend, "I wouldn't say scary, just…"

"Unexpected."

"She'd make a good mother," I mumbled as I watched one of the children hand her another book. One said something and she smiled kindly at them. She was one of the sweetest people I knew but even I'd never really seen that look on her face. It took a moment before I realized what I said and my cheeks burned as I stuttered out, "I- I mean-"

"I get it," he supplied, "I guess she would."

We watched as Noah took her a cup, I presumed of hot chocolate. He picked up a couple of the kids and we could hear his roar and their joyous squeals clear across the gymnasium.

"You two are always better together though," he shoved my shoulder playfully as he stood up, stretching.

I smiled at his back as he jogged over to the other two, playing with the kids as well for a few minutes before dragging Noah back to the food. I set down my coffee to start playing again.

}{

I didn't even realize we'd been there so long when the boys came and gathered us up to go. Noah and Mike were stretching as they caught my attention. I was still watching Santana while trying to think of more songs to play. I was in the middle of Let It Snow when Noah scooped me up into a tight hug. He alerted me to the time and I didn't believe him when I checked my own phone. I hadn't realized how tired I was until then and I leaned into his side and we made our way over to Santana.

"You're Santa's girlfriend right?" One of the children asked, interrupting the story.

"Shut up," another child nudged her.

"I told you she was short," one kid reminded.

"Does that make you Mrs. Santa?"

"Um, well,"

"Chill minis," Santana laughed as she closed the book and stood up. She kissed my cheek, "Yeah, this is my girl."

"You were right, she is really pretty," the little girl who'd formerly been sitting on her lap agreed.

I looked up to see her blushing past a smile.

"Well, sorry to say it's time for us to go," Noah almost sounded disappointed.

A chorus of, _whats_, _nos_, and _aws_ rang out as the children scrambled to hug all of our legs.

"Sorry guys," Santana kneeled down to let them hug her, "I have to go make sure my girl's Christmas special now."

"You guys be good," Noah reminded as he patted some of their heads.

Mike was even being tackled by the kids for hugs.

I was watching over them curiously when a little girl hugging a teddy bear tugged my hand gently, "So you really are her girlfriend?"

"Uh huh," I smiled politely before I kneeled down.

She looked back to Santana, "She's really nice. Do you have kids?"

I blushed slightly but shook my head, "No."

"You should," the little girl smiled at me, "She'd be a good mommy."

"Thank you," I was a bit confused when Santana came to us, hugging the girl before doing the same to me.

As she held me close I couldn't help but smile as she whispered, "Thank you for making me come."

"You're thanking me for making you do charity?" I laughed slightly as I leaned back.

She smiled and shrugged slightly.

}{

"Quick question," I mumbled as I rested my head on her shoulder in the back of the car, "Have you been asked an inordinate amount of questions about children?"

She laughed slightly, "Ignoring the fact that I've been surrounded by them all night, I guess I have."

"Anything in particular?" I wondered.

"A couple kids asked if we had any, a woman asked if we'd thought about it, one guy said I could make pretty hot babies with him-"

"Noah!"

The boy started laughing loudly in the front seat.

"It actually wasn't him," Santana assured, laughing just as hardly, "this time."

I joined them for a moment before relaxing against her side again, "I was told you'd make a good mother as well."

She fell silent for a moment and I glanced up, worried that I'd said something to upset her. Instead, I was met with a thoughtful smile, "You'd probably be better."

"We always do better together," I assured.

"The kids also said I was pretty," she shrugged, "So I liked that."

I laughed before leaning up to kiss her cheek, "Of course we'd have to teach our children not to lie."

She could only gape at me while Mike and Noah howled with laughter.


	7. Friday  Christmas

**A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays guys. I hope you have a wonderful New Year!**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex.**

I wasn't actually expecting to wake up to the smell of coffee. If anything I fully intended to wake up to Mike and Noah still crashing on the couch beneath me and Santana spread out unconscious over the bed. Instead, Santana was sipping coffee as she stood over me, an amused smirk drawn across her lips. Noah, the pillow I'd been using was sitting cross-legged in front of the tree. Mike, who formerly had my legs strewn over his lap, was sitting in front of him. I was a bit confused as she held her coffee mug down to me.

"I'd love to be upset that I found you asleep on top of, not one, but two guys, but really it was just an amusing sight," she helped me move into a sitting position, pressing the coffee into my hands and rubbing my back gently.

"Well if you hadn't made me sleep on the couch-"

"If you hadn't said I wasn't pretty," she challenged a smirk on her lips.

I looked to the coffee in my hands, glad to see there was no milk or cream even if Santana had already drunk half of it, "Why are you all up before me? How did you two even move?"

"You were like dead asleep," Noah assured.

"Puck almost dropped you," Mike snitched.

"What?" Santana and I cried in unison.

She was on her feet with her leg cocked back to kick Noah when I called, "Santana stop! It's Christmas and I'm sure Noah's very sorry."

"Really sorry, Rach," he nodded, not taking his eyes off of Santana's leg.

She huffed but finally relaxed, "Only for her."

I was glad when the environment relaxed a bit, "Can I get some coffee without anybody committing murder and then we can open our gifts?"

They all muttered their acquiescence as I got up and went into the kitchen.

They'd already separated the gifts. By the time I got back into the living room they were shifting excitedly, Santana was scratching the wrapping paper with her nail to get a peak, Noah was shaking one of his boxes, and Mike was staring intently at one box as if he had x-ray vision. My own pile sat untouched and neatly stacked, probably by Santana. I finally sat down and felt their eyes all lock onto me. I teased them by staring back over my coffee mug. Noah was going to say something when I finally waved them on. I even resisted the urge to complain as the trash built up around us.

"Yes!" Noah cheered as he held up the cable Santana had gotten him.

"Oh yeah," Mike had a similar response to his stereo.

They'd both already tugged on their hoodies over their pajamas.

"Oh thank God," Santana called as she hugged the flat-iron to her chest.

"Don't break this one," I warned.

She waved me off.

"Aren't you going to open anything?" Noah called, zipping up his jacket to look over the design on the front.

"Mhum," I nodded, putting down my coffee cup to pull one of Santana's silver and black packages onto my lap.

I was about to open it when Santana grabbed my wrist and shook her head, "I really don't care, but I don't think you should open that one in front of them."

"Santana," I groaned and pushed it behind my back, well out of Noah's reach.

"Try mine," Noah pointed to one wrapped in the Sunday comics, although he was still leaning and trying to see Santana's gift.

"Thank you Noah," I smiled before carefully unwrapping the package. I was so glad to find a docking station for my iPod. I pushed it off of my lap and moved to hug the boy. I sat back, Mike's eyes on me as I opened his gift, "Oh my. Thank you Mike, I've been needing a new one since my old got ruined." I held the mat tightly as I looked over to Santana.

"Chocolate sauce," she muttered, obviously she had her own thoughts about the mat.

"I've got one more," I announced, drawing everybody else's attention before they could get stuck on the mat. It was one more of Santana's although it was smaller than the box behind me. She was trying to look as I opened it. I even had to admit I was a bit stunned as I found the small white box. I cracked it open and almost gasped as I saw the charm bracelet. I lifted it carefully and saw three charms already on it, a microphone and two hearts, one with my blue topaz birthstone and the other with her green peridot set into them. I couldn't help it as I threw myself at her, wrapping my arms tightly around her neck, "Thank you so so much Santana. Thank you. Oh my God, I love it."

"Calm down," she urged, rubbing my back comfortably.

"So," Noah hummed nonchalantly, "We've sort of got these last gifts."

I finally let go of Santana, letting her help me put the bracelet on as I looked up to the boys. Even Santana had a couple extra gifts on her lap.

"Then open them," I urged.

They tore into the gifts excitedly, and I was surprised by them. Noah proudly brandished a pair of boxer brief and a t-shirt with the green lantern label. Mike's own had the Spiderman logo, and I was shocked to find Santana with batman gear, even the men's underwear. I couldn't help but feel like it was a set-up.

They all watched me curiously, bright smiles on their faces as they held the clothes. I rolled my eyes before waving them on, "Go change." They were rushing out of my sight before I could say anything else, and I almost forgot to add, "Don't follow Santana into the bedroom!"

"Damnit!" Noah yelled as two doors shut, presumably as Mike reached the bathroom before him.

They finally came out together, dressed in their new pajamas. It was hard not to compare them to children as they all crashed onto the couch. I had already thrown away all of the wrapping paper when Santana pulled me onto her lap. I rolled my eyes at all of them as they argued which superhero was better. I was glad they were all having a wonderful Christmas as I toyed with my bracelet, running my fingers gently over the charms. I smiled brightly as I caught Santana watching me.

"I can't help but feel this was a set up," I mumbled as I kissed Santana's forehead.

"It was," Mike assured.

"Absolutely," Noah nodded.

"But don't feel left out," Santana winked as she got up, going to the tree to pick up some more presents.

"As sweet as the gesture is I'm not wearing men's underwear," I pointed out, opening Noah's gift, a superman tank top.

"Got that covered," Santana tapped her own, a thong with the superman logo on the front.

"S-Santana, I'm n-not wearing th-this," I scowled at her past the red I was certain was covering my face.

They all laughed as Mike came forward to point out his gift, "I told them that." He'd gotten me some blue sleep shorts with the familiar logo peppered over them.

"Thank you guys, I suppose," I smiled down at the clothes on my lap.

"Well," Santana demanded, still looking down to me.

"Well what?"

"Go change," she pulled me up and led me to the bedroom.

"Don't take forever," Noah called, "There's no TV out here."

"Entertain each other," Santana called as she pulled the door shut behind us.

}{

"How do I look?" I asked as I looked down at my outfit.

"Super," Santana mumbled as she watched me from the bed.

I turned to stick my tongue out at her.

"Come here," she called. When I did she pulled me forward, slipping one arm around my waist.

"San, the boys are waiting," I reprimanded.

"I know," she called gently, "But I want to see your thong."

I blushed slightly but brushed away the hand currently tugging down my shorts, "Santana, you've already seen it."

"I know but," I was unnerved by the sudden apprehension in her voice; she almost sounded worried as she mumbled, "Just say yes."

"What?" I asked curiously as I looked her of her, "Love it'd be rude to leave the boys waiting on us."

"No," she shook her head and finally let go of the hem of my shirt. It took a moment before I realized I was staring at the small ring on the tip of her finger, "Say yes. Please," she was almost begging.

"Santana," I gasped, reaching down to hold her hand, almost afraid to touch the ring as I took in the three stones set in the braid white gold band. It was beautiful and almost brazen, but it was nothing short of what I'd define as Santana's taste. I couldn't say anything as she slipped it onto my finger.

"I'm sorry it doesn't match your bracelet," she shrugged, and began rambling "It's just that I bought the bracelet first and then I saw the ring. I know it's not even your style. You usually love more subtle things but I couldn't walk away. I mean, Rachel I love you, and-"

She was silenced as I pressed my lips to hers. She gave a sigh of relief at that and held my shoulders tightly as if she thought I might disappear if she let go.

"Did she say yes?" We pulled apart almost as if we'd been scolded when we heard Noah banging at the door.

She looked up to me hopefully.

I smiled and nodded, not even realizing there were tears in my eyes until she began whipping them away. I turned to call back, "I did!"

"Merry Christmas," she mumbled into my ear, still holding onto me tightly.


End file.
